if we could talk to birds
what would they say
would it be the arrival of spring
each twittering chatter
a whistle or two
heading into summer
such commotion
and synchronicity
as we fall into autumn
are they still with us
the weather becoming colder
in winter time
Leaves falling down
across the path
birds flying overhead
green is the grass
brown are the trees
squirrels climbing high
branches hanging low
crows in the air
then on the ground
windy weather all around
When all is done, nothing left.
What once was new, is old again.
To stand upon the shore,
the seas subconscious call.
Birds fly past, rekindle thoughts.
Rejoice! for the wind has given breath,
so we may feel the light
to ignite the pinnacles of heaven.
